


Far Away, So Close

by Brate



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brate/pseuds/Brate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheppard takes McKay up in a jumper after the events of "Critical Mass" and "Grace Under Pressure."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Away, So Close

Lt. Colonel John Sheppard exited the transporter and headed toward the science section. It'd been just over a week since the crashed jumper had been brought up from the ocean floor, and things were starting to get back to normal. Except for Rodney McKay.

After Caldwell had almost blown up the place—well, a Goa'ulded Caldwell—McKay, Zelenka, and most of the scientists had begun looking through the nooks and crannies of Atlantis' systems, making sure nothing else was lying in wait for them. Of course, McKay and everyone else had gotten sidetracked by his little "voyage to the bottom of the sea." But now he had immersed himself in his work to an alarming degree, surely some sort of avoidance tactic.

McKay was gun-shy. It was up to John to fix it.

Moving into the lab's doorway, he leaned against the frame and watched the scientists work. No one worked harder than Rodney, even fresh out of the infirmary. His head wound had cleared up nicely, just a fading scar proof of his ordeal, but John knew it went deeper. And he needed Rodney up to par so his team would be ready next time they were deployed.

Elizabeth Weir had okayed his request to take a jumper up, agreeing that Rodney needed to get "back on the horse." McKay would be a little harder to convince.

"Come on, Rodney," John wheedled.

The physicist refused to even look up from his laptop. "I am much too busy making sure this city does not sink into the ocean and drown us all to go traipsing around space with you."

"Okay, fine." John sighed, waving his hands. "That's all right. Dr. Brennan's been bugging me to take him up, teach him a few maneuvers." He turned to walk away, counting off in his head. He'd gotten to _five_ when Rodney spoke.

"Wait a minute."

"Yes?" John innocently drawled, because he knew Rodney hated it.

"You're going to take a meteorologist?"

"Sure. Weather formations in the upper atmosphere are crazy cool. He'll love it."

"Well, yes, of course, but—"

"And tactically speaking, the more people we have trained to fly jumpers, the better off we'll be in an emergency."

"But—"

"Okay, then. See you later." This time John only got to _two_.

"Wait!" McKay looked at John, down at the computer, then back to John. "You'll let me fly?" he asked as if he wasn't giving in.

"As much as you want," John agreed magnanimously.

"I'll meet you in the jumper bay in ten minutes."

"If you aren't there in five, I call Brennan."

John was out the door before he could hear McKay's bound-to-be-rude reply.

~*~*~*~

Rodney arrived in six minutes…just to show Sheppard who was boss.

He managed to even out his breathing and didn't hyperventilate while the colonel went through the pre-flight check. Though Rodney's fingers clenched the sides of his seat as they launched, he forced a serene expression on his face. Or maybe Sheppard was polite enough to ignore any mind-numbing fear he managed to glimpse. Once the jumper climbed higher—away from the water—Rodney started to relax.

They cleared atmosphere, sliding easily into the cool black of space, and Sheppard deftly turned command over. Rodney's hands glided across the instruments, relishing the feeling of freedom and control. Maybe he would survive this after all….

He regretted that thought five seconds later when the jumper shuddered to a halt. Luckily, the inertial dampeners remained online, or else they would've been red, squishy splotches on the ship's windshield.

Sheppard shot him an accusatory look.

Rodney raised his hands. "I didn't do it."

"Didn't do what?"

"Whatever happened, obviously."

"How do you know you didn't if you don't know what happened?" Sheppard pulled up the HUD.

That kind of logic made Rodney want to blow the man out of the nearest airlock. Settling for annoyance instead of murder, Rodney stood and whipped out his laptop. "I knew it. I knew something like this would happen. I told you these things are death traps." He moved to the rear, plugging the computer into the ship's port. "I'm never stepping foot in a jumper again!"

"Assuming we make it out of this one."

Rodney halted his movements and twisted his head around. "Why? Why would you say something like that?" He narrowed his eyes at Sheppard's not-so-hidden smirk.

"Jumper One to Atlantis…we seem to be having some trouble."

Elizabeth answered. "What kind of trouble, John?"

Before he could say anything, another set of sparks flew out of a side panel. The interior lights dimmed.

"I'm not sure what's going on," Rodney cut in, "but we're dead in space."

~*~*~*~

"Major Lorne, could you come to the control room?" Weir's voice echoed through the headset in Lorne's ear.

"Right away," Lorne answered, dropping what he was doing and moving swiftly through the halls. He wasn't sure what could be wrong since there had been no missions scheduled until their equipment was given the all-clear.

Entering the gate room, Lorne looked up through the windows and saw Weir standing over the computer station, a pinched expression on her face. The question that immediately sprang to mind was, _What has Sheppard's team gotten themselves into this time?_ The thought died quickly when he noticed Ronon and Teyla standing behind her. He revised it to, _What have Sheppard and McKay gotten themselves into this time?_

Weir gave him a quick sit-rep.

"We just got McKay back from under the ocean, and now he's stuck in the sky?" Lorne asked before he could stop himself. He'd been around Sheppard too long. Catching himself, he said, "I can have a team ready to go in fifteen minutes."

Ronon announced, "I'm going with you."

Lorne nodded. He wasn't going to be the one to tell the Satedan he couldn't go. He liked his limbs attached to his body, thank you very much.

But Weir waved them both off. "Thank you, but we'll have to hold off on that for now. Since we don't know exactly what happened, it's possible the other jumpers will be similarly affected."

In his head, Lorne knew this was good leadership, but his gut rebelled at the thought of doing nothing.

Ronon felt the same way. "Taking a chance is better than sitting here waiting for 'em to die."

Under his breath, Lorne muttered, "Hear, hear."

Apparently Weir did, because her lips tightened in disapproval before curving into a small smile. "Zelenka's team is working on it. Perhaps you could keep me updated on their progress, Major."

 _Busy work_. Aloud, Lorne said, "Yes, ma'am."

~*~*~*~

After another set of sparks, McKay complained, "There's no reason for it."

"There's got to be. Maybe some programming glitch," Weir offered over the open radio.

John caught McKay's eye. "Caldwell," they chorused.

"Could this be another form of attack by the Goa'uld?"

McKay snorted. "Unless you're stupid enough to believe in coinci-dences."

John wasn't surprised Weir didn't reprimand McKay, or even seem to react to his sarcasm. She knew as well as John that the scientist tended to lash out when afraid…or unhappy…or bored. She wouldn't take it personally until he and John were back safe in Atlantis. Then John would slowly back away from Rodney and let Elizabeth have him.

"Get Zelenka into another jumper and see if he can find out if this is the only compromised ship."

"He's already in the jumper bay, Rodney," Weir assured him.

"Apparently my crash into the ocean wasn't enough, now I get to die in space. Of course, Colonel, you're no stranger to crashing jumpers, first on the planet of annoyingly suicidal children, then on the planet of annoyingly murderous prisoners. Has anyone else used this specific jumper recently?" McKay went on, not giving John a chance to defend himself. "Maybe distance or altitude has something to do with our dilemma. Perhaps it's just this jumper, but the chances of that are negligible."

Listening to Rodney's stream-of-consciousness rant, John remained in his seat, even though he had nothing to pilot. He wasn't sure what to do, what he _could_ do until McKay told him. In these situations, he found it best to stay out of the way unless he could actually help. Or unless Rodney needed some "prodding."

"I don't know," McKay was winding down, " _something_ set it off. We need to find out what." He pounded at the keys of his laptop.

"Is there anything at all we can do for you?" Weir asked.

John slouched further in his chair. "I'm kinda hungry—maybe you could send up a pizza? Or you could give a heads-up to the _Daedalus_."

"They're at least a week out," Weir reminded him. "We've already sent word, but there's no way for them to get here any faster."

"'Preciate it."

"You understand we can't risk anyone else coming to get you until we're sure it's safe."

"Yes, yes, of course," McKay said, head not rising from his work.

"All right, we'll keep you updated with whatev—" Her voice cut off.

"Dr. Weir…Elizabeth?" John fiddled with the jumper controls, but it was no use.

They had lost long-range communication.

~*~*~*~

Lorne leaned against the main jumper bay door. He was on his second circuit of Atlantis' main floor. Not wandering, because he was a trained soldier, but waiting while in motion. He was basically "on call" since he would be the one leading the rescue mission once they got the go-ahead. He'd never been good at sitting still, however, especially when there was work to be done. Unfortunately, none of it was work he could do.

Weir had updated Lorne that Atlantis had lost communication with the jumper, but it could still be seen on the sensors. At this point, McKay and Sheppard were presumed safe, merely incommunicado. Not all that reassuring, but Lorne was trying to be hopeful. Something not all that easy to come by in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Standing up straight, Lorne walked over to Jumper Three, where Zelenka and Miko were working. They either had to find the cause of Jumper One's predicament and fix it, or make sure another was available for a rescue. Lorne glanced at the jumper across the way to see Doctors Simpson and Korvach similarly engaged.

Zelenka didn't turn around at Lorne's approach. After a few moments, the Czech spoke. "Staring at me is not helping."

"Yeah, sorry." Lorne shuffled in place. "You got anything, Doc?"

"It's slow," Zelenka admitted. "Even with everything we have done with these machines, there is still so much we do not know. We are working our way through each system in turn, but there is no telling how long they will have between each loss, or if the systems are failing in a particular order."

"All right. So what comes now?"

Zelenka shrugged. "I don't know. We have yet to locate the infected program. But any system might go down; it could be lights, artificial gravity, or even environmental."

"Life support," Lorne translated.

The Czech nodded. "It is a distinct possibility."

Lorne took a breath and gave a jerky nod in return. "Then let's stop messing around and get this shit done." He slapped the scientist on the back for luck and left.

~*~*~*~

John tossed McKay a PowerBar. At this point they were dead in the water, but they still had life support and minimal lighting. John had searched through the ship, not finding much in the way of munchies. He wasn't surprised; it was only supposed to be a short trip. He smirked as he thought, _Look what happened to the_ Minnow _in their three-hour tour._

Speaking of, "Why did you bring your laptop if you were just coming for a couple hours?"

"I don't go to the bathroom without my laptop." Rodney paused. "How many weapons are you carrying?"

John huffed. "Touché. No such thing as paranoia in the Pegasus Galaxy. Everything and everyone _is_ out to get you." He leaned back in his seat, trying to project an aura of calm. He didn't have anything else to do but check the HUD every couple minutes. No change: they were still screwed.

John found himself starting to drift. His eyes were at half-mast when muttering brought him fully awake.

"No…nononononono…" McKay chanted.

John sat up. That couldn't be good. "What is it?"

There was no answer, McKay just kept mumbling to himself.

"McKay!"

Rodney startled. "Oh, um, there might be a kind of…bomb."

"Okay, _might_? That's something you want to know for certain, Rodney."

"Yes, I know, I'm stuck here, too, if you hadn't noticed. But at this point I'm just trying to interpret the data from this damn program. I haven't worked with Goa'uld in so long and it's much different from Ancient. The sabotaging program is sending too much power to this particular unit," McKay pointed, "which keeps trying to absorb it instead of siphoning it off. If it keeps going, it's gonna blow."

"Can you shut it down?"

"What do you think I've been working on, my nails?"

"Rodney!"

"Yes, I think I can stop it from sending any more power, but the potential energy will still be in there."

John really hated when bad news took that long to tell. "And what does that mean?"

"It'll be extremely volatile; anything from a kick to a sneeze could set it off."

"That sucks."

"Yeah."

"Well, go ahead and disconnect it, then we'll worry about the next step."

Grumbling, McKay started to isolate the unit.

John looked around, gauging the situation. "Here's what we're going to do: I'm going to carry this thing to the rear of the jumper, close the door, then we'll open the ramp just enough to shoot it into space."

"That's a terrible idea," Rodney mumbled into the panel.

"At this point, we don't have a lot of options, McKay."

"It'll probably blow while you're taking it out for a stroll."

"But we'll still have better odds than if we just sit here waiting for something else to set it off," John countered. "What if you cough on it?"

"It's not _that_ touchy," McKay scoffed.

"Are you willing to bet your life on it? My life?" At the silence, John knew he'd won. "Okay, I'm going to clear a path."

~*~*~*~

On Lorne's next pass through the jumper bay, Ronon was standing outside the jumper Zelenka was working on, with his arms crossed, glaring stonily at the scientists inside.

Lorne thought Ronon actually liked the little guy, but he wasn't sure if Zelenka knew that in his present position on the receiving end of a threat Ronon didn't voice. The Czech was clearly intimidated, but pretending not to be. He refused to look at Ronon, but every time the Satedan moved or made a noise, Zelenka flinched.

Finally, Lorne took pity on him. "Can I speak with you a second?" he called to Ronon.

Ronon looked at Zelenka one last time and growled— _growled_ —before coming over. Lorne led Ronon out of the bay, grateful the larger man let him. If Ronon didn't want to go, there was nothing that would've made him. Luckily, the Satedan seemed to respect the chain of command. Lorne wondered if Colonel Sheppard realized the immense power he controlled.

"You know, the more the scientists are distracted, the longer it'll take them to fix the problem. And time is the one thing Sheppard and McKay don't have a lot of."

Ronon looked down at the floor. "Can't sit by and do nothing," he grunted.

"I hear you, believe me. But in this case, the best thing we can do is stay out of the way until we're needed."

Raising his head, Ronon said, "Maybe the Marines could use some exercise."

Lorne leapt at that like a starving man at a buffet. He was more than willing to sacrifice some of his men; a few bruises were worth it to get Sheppard and McKay back. "I think that's a great idea. I'll call you if I hear anything."

Ronon focused his stare on Lorne. "You better." He took off down the hallway in search of fresh victims.

In his time at the SGC and in the Pegasus Galaxy, Lorne had faced down dangerous people and horrifying things…and, man, he was glad Ronon was on their side.

~*~*~*~

Rodney stood and rubbed his hands together.

"Is it ready?" Sheppard asked.

"As good I can make it," he admitted with a halfhearted shrug.

"Well, I trust your 'as good as' more than almost anyone else's best. Let's do this thing."

Rodney tried to ignore the warm feeling that crept over him at Sheppard's words. They didn't tend to do "meaningful"; he wasn't sure how to react. He hoped Sheppard wasn't just telling him what he wanted to hear because he didn't think they were going to make it. They'd been at this point too many times in their friendship and Rodney felt it was starting to get stale. He didn't want to be the first one to break down…especially if they lived through it.

He stepped back and Sheppard moved forward. Rodney couldn't resist one last, "I'd like it on record that I hate this plan."

"Duly noted. If we both live through this, feel free to put it in your report."

"Not the way to instill confidence."

"I'm the one carting the thing around," Sheppard said. "I need you only to instill silence."

Sheppard slowly, ever so slowly, picked up the unit and started to carry it toward the rear. It was about the size of a shoebox, lit with what would normally be referred to as a warm glow. But this was nowhere near pleasant.

Rodney tried not to get in the way, but he couldn't help but hover. A little.

Sheppard harshly whispered, "Rodney, back off."

Rodney complied, but it didn't feel right leaving the colonel to shoulder the load, as it were.

The care which Sheppard took showed how comfortable he was around explosives, just like Rodney himself. Though they'd gotten there from different routes, they'd both had quite a bit of hands-on experience with hazardous objects.

Rodney watched as Sheppard made his way, taking a few steps forward himself. As soon as the colonel crossed the threshold of the rear compartment, the doors swooshed closed directly in front of Rodney.

At first he was too shocked to realize what had happened. But, luckily, even when his conscious mind was frozen, his brain didn't stop working. Rodney pounded against the metal. "Goddammit, Sheppard, you open this right now!" That stupid, high-powered ATA gene of his. Sheppard most likely told the door to close to keep Rodney from following. Not that he'd been planning on it, he'd merely been checking to make sure Sheppard was okay.

He continued to curse and kick at the door until he realized he still had his radio. Which he clicked on and continued to curse. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He paused for a response from Sheppard, but none was forthcoming. _Probably because the bastard knows he has no defense_. Then Rodney's brain jumpstarted and told him there was no way for Sheppard to activate his headset with both his hands holding the explosive device. So Rodney managed a one-sided grumble, cutting himself off when he realized that could be distracting Sheppard. Despite good intentions, Rodney's silence didn't last long. He just wasn't the quiet type.

"I'm assuming I would hear and feel an explosion of any magnitude," Rodney said, "but it's still very stressful not knowing what's going on."

Finally, a voice came through the headset.

"Chill out, Rodney, everything's cool. It was just a precaution. I'll g—"

A loud _whoomp_ cut him off, immediately followed by something thumping against the door separating them.

Rodney's heart caught in his throat. It took him a couple tries to get out, "Colonel? Colonel!"

Silence answered.

He needed the door open _now_.

~*~*~*~

Next time Lorne arrived to check on the scientists' progress, Teyla was stationed outside the main jumper, asking if there was anything she could do.

By Zelenka's wearied response, this wasn't the first time she'd asked.

The Athosian maintained an outward serenity, even though Lorne knew internally she had to be churning. That was something everyone knew: how much team members meant to each other and how worried she must be. So her peaceful vulture status wasn't helping Zelenka any more than Ronon's openly angry presence.

Maybe he could distract her.

"Teyla, could you do me a favor?" Lorne asked. At her nod, he continued, "I'm worried about Dr. Weir…."

~*~*~*~

Rodney worked on opening the door. He knew he might be committing suicide by doing so, but he was willing to take the chance. Besides, he couldn't leave Sheppard possibly hurt on the other side. Though, realistically, if the unit had exploded, there was no way the doors could stop the atmosphere from leaking out into space, and he would already be dead.

He tried to make himself believe that.

Rodney used the crystals first, rearranging them in various configurations, but nothing worked. Next, he hooked up his laptop. Nada. Rodney continuously called for Sheppard, but received no answer.

He was contemplating looking for some C-4 when he heard a groan in his ear. "Colonel?" Rodney asked, a little sharper than the coaxing voice he'd been reduced to.

A hesitant "Rodney?" was his answer.

"Colonel," Rodney said, this time in relief. "What happened?"

"Rodney?" Sheppard said again, just as confused.

 _Oh shit._ "Colonel, this is Rodney. What happened?"

Sheppard giggled. "Big boom."

Rodney silently freaked out. "The bomb went off?" How could Sheppard still be alive?

"Nope. Sumthin' else." He chuckled again. "Wadn't as fragile as you said. It's glowing brighter…pretty."

"Oh, God, you're brain-damaged."

"Am not," Sheppard denied in a pouty voice. " _You're_ brain-damaged."

"Oh, God, you _are_ brain-damaged. You couldn't even come up with a decent comeback." Rodney wiped the sweat from his eyes. "Okay, I can do this, I can do this." He took a deep breath. "I can't get the door to open, can you?"

"Can I what?"

"Open the door, you idiot!"

"Nope."

"Did you try?"

"Nope."

Rodney tried to contain his anger. He told himself it wasn't Sheppard's fault…but it didn't help. "Listen to me, we need to get you out of there and jettison the bomb before it goes off."

"Okay, I'll wait here." His words were starting to slur together.

Rodney tried to control his panic. "Colonel! I need you to stay focused. You closed the door; I need you to open it."

"You're making m' head hurt, Rodney. I'm gonna take a nap."

"No, do not do that, Colonel! Don't do that. Naps are bad."

"But I'm tired…." The whine trailed off into silence.

"Colonel?" No response. "Colonel!" Nothing. "Oh, great, he's out again." As if that weren't enough, the lights went out, plunging the jumper into complete darkness. "What now?!" Using his laptop as a guide, Rodney searched though the pile of supplies and found two flashlights and an emergency lamp.

Rodney turned them on and sat back down. Working more frantically, he received the same outcome: the door remained closed.

 _There's no reason this shouldn't work_. No logical reason. Unless….

He touched the side of the jumper, not anywhere specific, just the body of the craft itself. Closing his eyes, he channeled everything he was feeling. _If I don't get him out of there, he is going to die_.

Nothing happened. Not that he expected any less, as a scientist. But it was still disappointing.

He sighed and returned to the crystals, trying the same thing for the fourteenth time.

This time, the door opened.

~*~*~*~

Stepping through the jumper bay doors, Lorne nearly ran into Dr. Weir.

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here, ma'am."

She gave him a condescending but knowing smile. "Nice move sending Teyla to talk to me."

"Ma'am?" Lorne feigned ignorance.

Weir's smile widened before it faded. "I can't help but think, 'what if we're doing this for nothing?' We might already be too late, and we'll just be retrieving their corpses."

Lorne stiffened, pulling himself up straight. "We don't leave men behind, ma'am. Dead or alive."

Weir cleared her throat and nodded, appropriately chastened.

Suddenly, Zelenka shouted something Lorne assumed was the Czech version of "Eureka!"

"We found it; we've done it." A giddiness was added to the tired gleam in Zelenka's eyes. "Simpson and Korvach found a piece of the virus program. Then Miko and I were able to follow it back to its origin. It has now been rendered impotent."

"Are you sure?" Weir asked.

"One hundred percent." Zelenka exchanged a quick glance with his fellow scientists. "Well, maybe eighty percent."

"Good enough for me," Lorne said.

Thinking for a quick moment, Weir nodded. "Major, you have a go."

"Yes, ma'am."

~*~*~*~

Rodney rushed in through the open door, shining a flashlight around.

Sheppard was slumped against the outer bulkhead, a large, bleeding gash on the side of his head. It looked like one of the rear panels had blown. At this point, Rodney didn't care if it was a simple malfunction or part of the planned sabotage, he couldn't waste any time. Grabbing Sheppard under the arms, Rodney dragged him into the front section and laid him down.

He stood and saw the unit was indeed "glowing brighter," as Sheppard had stated. They probably only had a few minutes before it blew. Rodney needed to shut the door. Ridiculous, since he'd just spent an inordinate amount of time and energy getting it open. But it seemed the only plan available was Sheppard's.

Luckily, the door was easier to close than to open. Rodney then disconnected his laptop and linked into the main jumper controls. He set up the rear ramp on a timed circuit, allowing it to open and close within ten seconds. Hopefully, two things would happen: one, the explosive device would be sucked into space, quickly and cleanly; and, two, the ramp would actually close—not quite a guarantee at this stage of the game.

"I guess we'd better go ahead with the rest of your stupid plan since the first part went so well." Used to talking while he worked, Rodney didn't stop himself simply because there was no one conscious to listen. "The way our luck is going, exposure to the vacuum of space will set the damn thing off." He tapped the final keys necessary to start the sequence. "Here goes everything."

A loud roar swept through the small ship as the air rushed out. Rodney prayed the life support would remain online long enough to refill the cabin with breathable air. Within the allotted time, the jumper was closed tight again, and Rodney watched the oxygen level even out.

With a sigh of relief, he sat next to Sheppard. "So, come here often?" Grabbing the emergency kit, Rodney opened it and rummaged through the contents. He picked out a roll of bandages and started wrapping. Tilting his head, Rodney checked his work. Well, he never claimed to be good at the whole first aid thing, but it should hold until Carson got his hands on the colonel.

He worked on his laptop for a few minutes, waiting to see if Sheppard would wake up on his own, but patience was never one of Rodney's virtues. Poking Sheppard got no response. He followed it with a light slap to his face.

The colonel came up fighting, and slapped back…hard.

Rodney yelped. "Why'd you do that?"

"You did it first," Sheppard said. "Ow…my head." He raised one of his hands as if to hold it in place.

"I was just trying to see if you were still alive."

"Obviously, I am." Feeling the excessive amount of bandages Rodney had wrapped around his head, John sighed. "A little goes a long way."

"I didn't want to risk your brain leaking out—you really can't afford it. Sounded like you were…off earlier."

"I had just woken up from being knocked out. I had the right to be a little off."

Rodney squinted in the badly lit cockpit. Sheppard's pupils might be dilated, or whatever it was called. He wasn't a medical expert, but he knew that could be bad. But Rodney had no idea what he should do to help.

Something must've shown on his face, because Sheppard was quick to reassure him. "I'm not dying, McKay. I just got a little bump on the head. It's happened before." He stretched out, snatching a random bag from the pile he'd cleared from the rear section and using it as a pillow.

"I think your head could be used for blunt trauma studies," Rodney mumbled. But he was glad Sheppard at least sounded more like himself again. Using the first aid kit to prop himself up, Rodney rested his head against the jumper's wall, finally having a moment to breathe since this whole thing had started. At least he wasn't hallucinating Samantha Carter there helping him.

Of course, he wasn't the one with a head injury this time. "Are you seeing anyone else here?" Rodney asked, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.

Sheppard opened his eyes. "McKay, are _you_ seeing anyone else? 'Cause I thought I was the one with the head wound?"

"No, it's just when I was underneath, I saw…." He trailed off at the look of _crazy_ on Sheppard's face. "Never mind."

"Uh-huh." Sheppard closed his eyes and laid his head back down.

Deciding to change the subject—quickly—Rodney said, "Do you think they'll get here in time?"

"They'll be here," Sheppard replied wearily.

"That's what I think, too," Rodney said, and was surprised to find it wasn't a lie.

~*~*~*~

Major Lorne directed his ship through the atmosphere toward the disabled jumper. The closer they got, the more he relaxed, unconsciously breathing a sigh of relief when nothing happened.

"See? Told you it would be fine," Zelenka said from the passenger seat.

"You didn't sound quite so confident earlier," Lorne drawled back.

Teyla and Ronon remained quiet in the back, tense, waiting to see what they would find.

Moving closer, Lorne keyed his radio. "Jumper Three to Jumper One. Do you copy?"

Silence, growing more oppressive with each passing second, filled the jumper.

At last, Doctor McKay came over the line. "It's about time—we were getting bored."

Lorne couldn't prevent the smile gracing his face. He heard Ronon bark a laugh.

Teyla asked, "Are you both well?"

"I'm fine, but Colonel Sheppard hit his head and he's been making less sense than he normally does." The scientist's response was lighthearted, but his worry came through the line.

All business, Lorne took over. "We're coming up behind you. Zelenka is going to extend the shield around both jumpers, then we'll lower our ramp. Once we give the signal, you lower yours and we'll bridge them together."

"Yeah, yeah," said McKay. "Been there, done that."

The ramps were barely in place when Ronon barged across onto the damaged jumper, straight to Sheppard's side. Lorne and Teyla followed close behind, leaving Zelenka in the jumper.

Slapping away McKay's offered hand, Colonel Sheppard struggled to stand. Once upright, his legs buckled, but Ronon caught him before he hit the floor. "I can walk!" Sheppard protested.

"Of course you can," Ronon agreed, easily scooping him up and carrying him.

Crossing the ramp, Sheppard's arms flailed and he pushed against Ronon. "We can't leave her here."

From behind, Lorne asked, "Leave who, Colonel?"

"My jumper."

Ronon endeavored to hold the thrashing Sheppard.

"Sir, it'll be fine," Lorne placated.

But Sheppard was shaking his head. "She'll be alone, all alone."

Suddenly, any humor in the situation disappeared. This was not a normal reaction for Lorne's commanding officer, and it showed just how quickly they needed to get Sheppard to the infirmary.

Luckily, McKay seemed to know what was required. "Colonel," he snapped, "the _Daedalus_ is on its way. They'll beam it into their glider bay and bring it back to Atlantis."

"Oh, okay." Sheppard stopped fighting and slumped against Ronon.

Once both jumpers were secure, Lorne signaled Zelenka to disable the shield, before sliding into the pilot's seat.

Lorne glanced in the back during the flight, caught Zelenka doing the same, but neither of them wanted to intrude on the scene.

Sheppard's team had gathered around him, staying together, proving to each other that everyone was fine. Ronon stood as if on guard, while Sheppard was laid out on a bench with his head on Teyla's lap. McKay sat at the other end.

Heading into the city, Lorne was just thankful they had avoided yet another possible disaster that had been thrown at them. He knew their luck couldn't last, but he was grateful for every break they got.

~*~*~*~

John peered around the corner, eyeing his prey. McKay had effectively ducked his prior attempts to lure the scientist back into a jumper. Not that John could blame him, but it was an unavoidable requirement in their lives. So he had tracked McKay down and lay in wait. When McKay exited the gym—surely the last place he'd expected to be found—John grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket.

"Oh, there you are, Colonel," McKay said, full of innocence. "I was just on my way to the mess hall."

John didn't release his hold. "Not anymore; we've got a trip to make."

"Are you crazy?" McKay twisted out of John's grip. "There is no way I'm going up in one of those deathtraps."

Sighing, John said, "Rodney, you have to do it if you want to stay on the team."

McKay deflated immediately. "That's not fair."

"True. But what is?" He slapped McKay on the back in commiseration, nudging him in the right direction at the same time.

They saw Teyla and Ronon on the way. "Sure you don't want to come with us?" John asked as they passed. He turned and walked backward, relying on Rodney to keep him from crashing into anything or anyone.

"It is most kind of you to ask," Teyla said, "but I have already promised to help Elizabeth with something."

Ronon simply said, "No."

John shrugged. Both of the aliens seemed to prefer the open space of Atlantis to the closed-in feeling of a jumper. "Your loss." He spun around and they continued their journey.

"How come they don't have to go?" McKay whined.

"They aren't afraid to go," John answered easily.

"I'm not afraid."

"Liar."

McKay gave up the pretense. "Well, the damn things keep trying to kill me!"

"Buck up, Rodney, what are the chances of anything happening again?"

McKay stared at him, slack-jawed. "Oh, you did _not_ just do that! You cursed us."

"Come on, you know I don't believe in that stuff."

"And now we're going to die."

"I'm sure we'll be fine." John paused. "But…you have your laptop, right?"


End file.
